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So I joined about umpteen million other people in using part of that quote from Fahrenheit 451 to commemorate the death of Ray Bradbury. Here’s the full quote:
“And when he died, I suddenly realized I wasn’t crying for him at all, but for the things he did. I cried because he would never do them again, he would never carve another piece of wood or help us raise doves and pigeons in the backyard or play the violin the way he did, or tell us jokes the way he did. He was part of us and when he died, all the actions stopped dead and there was no one to do them the way he did. He was individual. He was an important man. I’ve never gotten over his death. Often I think what wonderful carvings never came to birth because he died. How many jokes are missing from the world, and how many homing pigeons untouched by his hands? He shaped the world. He did things to the world. The world was bankrupted of ten million fine actions the night he passed on.”
Damn, that’s good. Some more memorable Bradbury quotes are here.
I can’t say that Bradbury was my favorite writer — I didn’t strive to become a writer because of him — but his impact on the literary landscape is indelible. He will be missed, and the world is a darker place without him.
Of course, the world was a pretty dark place this time 68 years ago. D-Day was an incredible risk for the Allies, but it paid off with the eventual victory in Europe. Here’s a photo gallery of some powerful images.
And today was National Running Day. Figures it would fall on my off-day. Oh, well, back to it tomorrow.